


off the record

by ElasticElla



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e02 Fastest Man Alive, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25629289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: Bringing her to Saints and Sinners on a Friday night, which is admittedly a dicey move for a cop’s daughter.But it’s abrilliantmove for an aspiring reporter, and she’s going to find a juicy story here, she can feel it.
Relationships: Leonard Snart/Iris West
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17
Collections: Battleship 2020, Battleship 2020 - Yellow Team





	off the record

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flowersforgraves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/gifts).



For the record, Iris would like to state this is _all_ Barry’s fault. Barry was supposed to help her with the science-y breakdown for her journalism class, and ended up forgetting to meet up with her. Which really, wasn’t that bad or even surprising, given his super adorable and new boyfriend. (It’s cute that Barry thinks she bought Cisco being his ‘friend from work’ that Joe mysteriously has never heard of.)

So Iris decided to do what any good journalist would do, and find a new story that she doesn’t need Barry’s help with. The Streak could be it, but given the prof’s recent lecture on reliable sources and multiple witnesses, she needs it to be iron-clad. With so many interviews and at least one decent photo, that even a non-believer wouldn’t chalk it up to a hoax. 

Okay, maybe she really wants to win the class contest. 

There’s a job interview at Central City Picture News for whoever writes the best article all semester. Iris is going to crush it. She’s always enjoyed writing, all she has to do is get a bunch of different perspectives on the Streak. Enough to create a dynamic story and clear reliable witnesses, piece of cake. This is what brings her to Saints and Sinners on a Friday night, which is admittedly a dicey move for a cop’s daughter. 

But it’s a _brilliant_ move for an aspiring reporter, and she’s going to find a juicy story here, she can feel it. 

The bar is crowded, definitely with more sinners over saints. There’s a few ex-cons she vaguely recognizes, a dozen or so people with visible prison tats, and a group in leather that explains all the motorcycles parked out front. 

There’s an empty two-person table in the back that looks perfect, Iris getting a martini from the bar and heading over. In the corner like this, she can observe the entire room, a thought that has her mentally snickering, thinking of an ex that used to always insist on facing the door. 

The martini is surprisingly good, and she takes a big enough sip that she can let the glass sit like that for the rest of the evening. She wants to be sharp, but approachable. Iris is debating if she should get her notebook out now or-

“I once killed a man for taking my seat,” a disembodied voice says over her shoulder, and it’s so cliché that Iris is more amused than afraid. 

“You didn’t,” she replies, looking over, and her stomach spins. “Leonard.” 

The name comes out breathless, not on purpose at all, but it would be as she sees him in the flesh, doesn’t bother adding his last name. He’s so much prettier than his mugshots, and Iris has snuck enough looks into her Dad’s files to know she should be running. He isn’t a killer, the only thing in danger is her knockoff Prada. (As though Leonard Snart would deign to steal something so mundane, so cheap.)

He cocks an eyebrow, sliding into the seat across from her. “I don’t believe we’ve been acquainted Miss…?” 

“Iris, it’s a pleasure.” 

His eyes drag over her, in a way that should make her angry not wondering if he might be persuaded to have sex in the back of a car. (Judging by the lip bite, yeah, she thinks so.)

“Could be. What are you here for?” 

“I- excuse me?” 

His lips curl up, “You checked all the exits and bathrooms within the first minute of being inside. You ordered a cocktail that you enjoy but aren’t drinking. You’ve been eyeing all the patrons, but not the way a usual good girl comes in to get fucked out of her mind.” 

Leonard gives her a moment to digest that, the crassness affecting her more than it should - anger, that's how she's supposed to feel here. Before he steals her breath away, squeezing her knee under the table. She jolts, would have slammed her knee up if he weren’t holding it down firmly, and that shouldn’t be so hot. His smirk widens, “I’ll ask you again Iris, what are you here for?” 

“How do you know I enjoyed the martini?” 

“Deflection, truly? I thought you’d be more… interesting.” His grip lightens, as if threatening to unhand her is supposed to do something.

Iris’s eyes narrow, and she hates that she’s being baited so easily, still goes for it. “Information.” 

“Such as?”

“I’d rather not talk about it here.” 

“Look at that, sense,” he smiles. “Good.” 

His hand slips further up her thigh, fire racing through her jeans, and she lets her legs fall open, curious how far he’ll take this. 

His fingers slip higher, can’t possibly go much further the angle they’re at, not without it being obvious to everyone in the bar. (Thank god for dim lighting.)

“My, my Miss Iris,” Leonard purrs, “just what type of information do you want?” 

Iris licks her lips, “I’d settle for your license plate, and a nearby motel.” 

“Done,” he says, getting up, a sudden chill where his hand was. 

Iris sends Barry their code emoji for a one-night stand (it’s a bed, she didn’t say it was clever). Leonard walks her to a motorcycle, because _of course_ he rides a motorcycle. He offers a helmet, and Iris doesn’t hesitate. If she’s really going for the cliches, she’s all in. 

Leonard starts it up, “You ever ride one?” 

Iris gets on, looping her arms around him, “I’m not the one driving here.” 

He pats her hands, “Hold on tight.” 

The bike roars to life, and Iris grips him tighter, pressed up against his back. The engine rumbles in a way that sends vibrations through her entire groin, and that _can’t_ be standard. Her body gets used to it after a few blocks, doesn’t seem quite so intense, but she’s never looking at a biker the same way after this. 

The night feels so much colder like this, and warm as her front is, the wind bites through the rest of her. She relaxes at some point, and eyes closed, it’s easy to enjoy the speed they’re zipping around the city.

Leonard stops in an upscale hotel’s parking lot, and she supposes given his work, frivolous spending isn’t surprising. 

“And how was your first ride?” he asks, taking her helmet. 

“Colder than I thought.” 

He smirks, definitely on the same wavelength, “We’ll have to warm you up then.” 

.

Iris wakes up to a note on the bedside table, an apology for leaving early and a phone number. She never really got around to asking about how the Streak influenced theft overall, if and how things have been changing. 

Next time, she promises herself, falling back onto the bed and giggling. She really needed that, feels so very sated. And with a grin she remembers the hot tub and gets up – she has a few hours before check out and is absolutely making the most of them. 

.

A week later, Iris stalks into Saints and Sinners, spotting Len at the bar quickly and approaching the bastard. 

“A _supervillain_ ,” Iris hisses. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“Oh don’t play the wounded damsel, you’re a fangirl of my soon to be nemesis,” Leonard drawls.

“I’m not a-” 

“Favorite blogger, same difference.” 

Iris growls, and Len’s lips quirk up into an irritatingly attractive smug grin. “Does your boyfriend know you’re here?” 

“He’s not my – that’s not what this is about.” 

“And what is it about Miss West? You didn’t seek out little old me just to complain about what I allegedly do in my free time.” 

Her heartbeat thuds in her ears, and fuck. He’s right and for the life of her she can’t think of a single sensible reason to be here. It was so much easier to work up a righteous rage before she saw him, before every moment of last time started replaying in high definition in her mind. 

Len must reach the right conclusion, hooking a finger in her belt loops and pulling her closer. “Unless you came by for something more… intimate.” 

Iris glares at him, but she doesn’t back off. “I’m still pissed about your life choices.” 

“We’ll see how you feel in an hour,” Leonard says, kissing her before she can reply. And yeah, she can agree on that point at least – they’ll deal with whatever this is after.


End file.
